One Little Change
by OokamiJudge
Summary: The only reason Michael didn’t attack and possibly even kill Sam the night he turned was Nanook, but what if he hadn’t been in the bathroom with Sam and hadn’t attacked Michael? How much different could or would things have been?
1. Michael's Turning

I don't own Lost Boys and am making jack from this except having fun with 'What If's.. this also applies to any and /ALL/ future chapters.

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He knew that voice, would know it anywhere in truth. Still since it was who it was why hadn't he… come in or something? Why had David and the other boys just left like that? He didn't know, had no clue even about why they hadn't or even why they had done something like that in the first place. He saw no reason for them to want to scare him which it sure seemed like what they were up too.

He had sent Sam for his bath though and now he was trying to think it though. He pulled the fridge open and grabbed out the milk, his throat was dry maybe something to drink would help. Before he got more then even a single drink down his stomach clenched painfully and he was forced to his knees the milk container hitting the floor as he tried to stop his farther fall with his hand. It lasted only a few seconds before he just blacked out though.

Or rather his conscious mind did. His body and his unconscious mind were nearly as easily swayed. He left the door open and the milk as the floor as he made his way to the stairs. Blood, he could smell it, fresh warm blood.

He made his way up the stairs looking rather like a mindless animal with the feral look that had taken over his face. His left hand slammed against he door jam as he made his way though his room standing at the bathroom door. His other hand gripped the handle and his breath picked up at the now rather close smell of the blood. He turned the handle and made his way in his brother ducking under the water just as he opened the door.

Barking on the other side of the bathroom door leading to his own room brought Sam back from under the water seconds later only to be grabbed around the neck. The shock of it was only made worse when he realize that not only was he now being held off the ground, but it was Michael and he didn't look at all right. His eyes there was something wrong with them and how could he even hold him like this. "Michael?" he questioned as he pulled at the fingers around his neck trying to get something more then the half breath the near choke hold on his throat was allowing.

He didn't even twitch at the sound of his name, the 'Michael' Sam knew wasn't conscious now it was just the hunger. His new hunger for blood had taken over and nothing so simple was going to bring the rest of Michael back.

Sam shoved on his brother trying to squirm out of his grip until… he blinked at the image in the mirror. Suddenly Nanook's barking and the strength made since, he was like some "Ahhh.."

Blood, warm sweet blood. Michael relished the taste of the blood flowing into his mouth from the wounds his fangs had made in his brother's neck.

"Michael…"

It was weak, but with the hunger for the most part sated it was enough to bring Michael back to himself. It was too late though and without even realizing how he knew it. Sam was dieing and there was nothing he could do about it. He had killed his brother. He was fading fast something about the way he smelled just told Michael that, but at the same time that look… It was like Sam hated him with everything he was and /that/ hurt more then anything else. "Sam I'm… I'm… sorry…" his words were nearly as weak as Sam's but they were all he could manage before he bolted out of the room and the house to his bike.


	2. How Could I?

How could he have done that? How could he have done that to his own brother? Sam and he just weren't like most siblings he knew. He loved Sam and Sam loved him, they stuck close to each other and looked after each other. So how could he have done that? How could he have done such a thing to Sam?

Most people probably would have been more worried about the 'how did I do that' rather then the 'why did I' but Michael wasn't most people. Yes he did want to know what was going on with him. He did want to know why he had even though to attack Sam to start with. Neither were as important to him as why he could let himself attack and kill his Sam though.

He raced over the street the houses, the people, even the cars flying by him in a blur as he kicked his bike into a faster gear then he ever had. Somehow he just knew he would be fine and that was enough for him to not care and just let the engine lose. The streets and houses gave way to the people and wood of the boardwalk, but still he hardly noticed. He just needed to go, he didn't know where there was just /somewhere/ he needed to be right now.

He didn't even blink when the people in front of him cleared a path giving him a beyond frightened look. Weather he didn't notice or didn't care was another story though. Which ever it was though the blood staining his chin and teeth was more then enough to have gotten him a clear path /without/ the bike. Between them though the path only seemed wider.

Still eventually the boardwalk gave way to dirt and trees and it was then he finally realized where he was. He was home. He didn't know why the thought sounded so very true, but it did, this was home. He had kill his Sam, his beloved Sam and now he had come home. It was how things should be, at least that was what some part of him told him the rest of him was still questioning. 'How could I?'

How could he feel so at ease when his brother was dead? How could he even /think/ that this was home? How could being here make him suddenly not care about Sam or what he had done to him?

He pulled his bike to a halt at the cliff without even a thought. The water was dark still night waters, but he could see their slight blue. He swallowed hard and wished he could cry, but there just wasn't enough of him that cared about his brother or that he was gone. What was he that he could sit here like this and not care one bit about his brother?

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Author's Note: Ok yes I am still working on my other Lost Boys story, but right now where my computer is in the shop I don't get much time online. Instead I end up obsessively watching my movie collection and writing when I'm not at work and this was a new one that came to me. Question for you all though, I'm debating between Sam being actually dead, or the David having shown up and saved him… thoughts?


	3. Going Home

Author's Note: Well four votes plus my opinion is all my patience/muse are willing to wait for so on we go…

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The part of him that had lead him here to start with was soon 'pulling' him once more and somehow he just knew it was time to find shelter before the sun could touch him. It wasn't getting any lighter yet, but he still somehow knew the sun would be rising soon. He struggled with himself over the thought of just staying here. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to avoid the sun, but the part of him that knew he needed to knew it was deadly to him if he didn't.

Some might call Michael stupid for not knowing what was going on. For not knowing what he had and was becoming, but let those people kill their brother and just suddenly 'know' things and see if they aren't as out of it as him.

And 'out of it' was probably the best way to put it too. He was letting that… voice in the back of his mind control things. He had let it attack Sam, he had let it lead him out here, he had nearly let it convince him to find shade until…

He didn't know what that was but it smelled so very very good. He kicked down his bike's stand and pulled himself off turning in the direction of the smell. It wasn't like anything else that he could ever remember, but what was it? There was that 'pull' again too, but this time it was towards that smell. Yes what ever it was he want, no /needed/ it.

Without thought Michael just followed that 'pull' let it lead him where it would and he found himself a little ways into the forest watching a couple. They had probably come for the solitude, but really he couldn't care no what ever it was that smelled so very good it was here, with them. He hardly made a sound as he got closer and closer until the girl screamed and they jumped apart. Yes what ever it was /they/ had it and /he/ wanted it.

His stomach felt like… it was trying to eat it's self. His blood felt like it was burning him alive from the inside out. He couldn't ever remember being this thirsty, this hungry before. His body reacted before his mind could even realize what it was thinking and what he was doing he grabbed the closer of the two which happened to be the boy and pulled him close forcing his head to he side at the same time.

By the time his mind caught up with his body it couldn't care anymore that he was once more sitting here with his teeth buried in the neck of another person. He could hear his heart knew he was heading towards death, but his blood it was so good like nothing else he had ever tasted. It quieted the churning of his stomach, calmed the fire in his blood, and gave water to the desert that had taken up his mouth and throat.

As he drank down the last of the blood, heard the beating of his heart stop, let the now dead body fall to the ground the 'how could I's returned. He stared at the boy with his glazed eyes and the blood down his front and neck where it had escaped him. With the girl having managed to get far enough away to not tempt him with yet more blood the 'real' Michael returned once more.

The Michael who couldn't believe what he had done. The Michael who couldn't believe he had just killed/again/. First his brother, his Sam, and now this? What was he? How could he do such things? No how could he do such things and not care. Well no he did care he cared greatly, but at the same time he didn't. It was confusing to say the least.

Still he didn't get time to think on it because once more his body was moving even while his mind tried to think his… problem… over. He made his way to his bike, but he didn't bother starting it. He just kicked the stand and pushed it the rest of the way answering the remaining 'pull' that called to him.

After the other things that had happened already tonight he didn't even bother to question why he made his way to the cave. Didn't bother to question why David and the others were waiting for him. Didn't bother to question when they took his bike and put it with theirs. And didn't bother to question when they lead him deeper into the cave. It was just too much for him to think on at one time in truth, too much to take in. He had killed his brother, killed that boy, and now he was here and they seemed to have been expecting him. He needed… needed…

His thoughts were starting to get a bit fuzzy as sleep beckoned him. He didn't remember being tired, but he knew he sure was now, very tired. He would have too… have too… sleep. Yes sleep now think more later.

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Author's Note: ok the 'pulling' and the 'knowing' is what I see going on in his head. Star says that for her "it's getting harder and harder to resist" these thoughts are what I see her resisting. They are the basic knowledge vampires have 'get out of the sun' 'blood is your food' 'blood smells good' 'your Sire is your home' things like this. Just explaining my reasoning the best I can before anyone asks or for anyone who is wondering :)

Ghostwriter – Surprise it is

Nightcrawlerlover – Blood transfusion? Not one I had thought of for saving Sam. Gotta member this is David we are talking about here though hehe ;)

Rebecca – Ah come on now Sam doesn't have to die to him to be a full vampire, there are plenty of other ways I can torment him and turn him all in one go _whistles innocently_ all the same I'll keep it in mind


	4. Accepting What Is

When he woke again David and the others were gone and he knew it was well past sundown maybe even nearly midnight in truth. He didn't know how he knew either of these things, but somehow he just /knew/ that they were true. The events of the previous night already seemed like so long ago, fuzzy memories that were to be forgotten at best ignored at worst. He hated it hated it with a passion that he had never hated another thing, but somehow he knew it was right, that all was as it should be. That didn't mean he liked it though, not in the least and not even his sleep had made things any clearer.

He needed to think this though to figure it out he knew that. Still was here really the best place for any sort of thinking? Well he was comfortable and as long as David and the others were gone he was alone probably so he supposed at least for now it would do. Where to start though? Where to even start with trying to figure this out? How about with what he knew?

What did he know? Well he liked blood… a lot. The sun, he had wanted away from the sun. Hold on, even if he didn't read comics or watch those silly shows he knew what the fuck that sounded like right there. Why it hadn't come to him last night he didn't know, but now? Now it was the only thing that came to mind, other then his grumbling stomach that felt like it was trying to eat it's self. He settled a hand on his stomach when it informed him rather painfully that it was /quite/ empty. He didn't like that. If… if he was right all that would help was… was… blood.

Michael didn't at all like that thought, but his stomach gave another painful lurch apparently agreeing with the suggestion. No! He refused! He wasn't a killer… he wasn't… he just…

Who was he trying to fool? He had killed Sam and he had killed that boy. Killed them! They were dead and they weren't coming back and it was all-his-fault! He pulled his knees to his chest where he sat on the dirt ground and dropped his head. How could he feel nothing? He had killed his brother, his Sam and he felt nothing. He hadn't even blinked and couldn't seem to manage to feel sad about it or at least not very sad. Yes part of him, a small part, was sad over the loss but the rest of him couldn't seem to care less it just accepted that it had happened and that it would happen again.

He didn't know weather to laugh at the absurdity of it all or be sick over his acceptance of the death; of his killing. Either way it didn't look too good, but still he couldn't accept his thoughts of what it meant. A vampire/Beyond/ absurd. There was no such thing they were at /best/ some creature from one of Sam's comics, but there was no way they could be real.

"Thought I would find you here."

Michael jumped at the voice looking up just as David landed infront of him. He couldn't help the once over he gave the other male, he couldn't help looking to find /something/ to try and make the absurd thought go away. It couldn't be real, he couldn't be a vampire. He didn't know much about them sure, but didn't you have to be bit or or drink their blood or something?

David didn't even try to hide the smirk at the look on Michael's face, he knew that look had seen it before. There hadn't always been only the four Lost Boys. He had made another once, another who had walked into the sun unable to accept what he was. "What's wrong Michael?" he prodded watching the realization spread over his face.

She had warned him, Star had warned him and he had ignored her. The wine! "That wasn't wine?" Michael knew the answer, but he couldn't help the hope that this hadn't been his fault.

"No Michael, and now your one of us." David informed him wondering if he was going to lose another childe to the sun. Michael seemed stronger then the other had been, but looks could be deceiving and he was Max's choice not his own. He hadn't taken the time to see if he might fit well, to see if he would accept his fate, he had just given him his blood and now it was up to Michael. Well either way he wouldn't make any deal over it he didn't know the other boy enough to care. He would wait and see before he decided.

Michael dropped his head once more letting his chin rest on his knees. A vampire. How on earth could this be? They were a myth, a legend, something from a comic or a movie. He lifted one of his hands looking it over front and back before repeating it with the other one. He didn't /look/ any different. Didn't really /feel/ much different truth be told. Not outside the want of blood, the hate of sun, and that sitting here like this with David he felt more 'at home' then he ever had well at home.

He lifted his gaze once more to David. The changed eyes and the fangs didn't surprise him like some part of him said it should. It was David it was… how he should be. Without the gnawing pain in his stomach he could feel the shift of his teeth when he gained his own fangs and see the difference in the world around him when his eyes changed. His own shift as much in response to David's as the hunger that he could feel starting. It wasn't that all consuming gnawing pain from before though.

He was hungry and he could smell the faint traces of blood on David along with something… familiar, but he couldn't entirely place what was so familiar about it or where from. Still the blood was enough to spur the hunger farther. He knew what he wanted, needed even and while the greater part of him was all to glad to search it out there was still that small part of him that said it was wrong. It didn't take long for the hunger and the better part of him to silence that small part though.

He was Michael Emerson: cold blooded murder and vampire. He didn't like that not one bit, but he knew he couldn't ignore the hunger, that larger part of him informed the small nagging part that it would force him to kill again. So the small part agreed that it would be better to just find… food and be done with it. Surely he could feed without killing. Right?

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Rebecca – hehehe good thoughts I'll keep them in mind either way, and as for Sam you'll find out the status of him soon.

Ghostwriter – glad yer likin it and here's the next installment

LeststsLittleGirl – more ya want more ya get, and I do try for as original as I can. It just seemed to work so well though. Michael didn't care it was his brother and if Nanook hadn't been there I really do think he would have attacked him. So I had to write it out and see what I could come up with.


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